


In Plain Sight

by Listentothelittlebird



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Crossover, Did you know Alfred’s dad was named Jarvis?, Gen, Genius Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listentothelittlebird/pseuds/Listentothelittlebird
Summary: Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark first met as kids at the funeral of the Waynes.Bruce Wayne left Gotham to travel around the world. While he was gone, Tony Stark became the owner of Stark Industries.Several years pass until they meet again.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Peter Parker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 237





	In Plain Sight

This was where it all began. Under the pouring rain, the thunder that wailed like the sobbing of a child, the lightning striking fast, in the blink of an eye, too much like a gunshot, blink and they fall.

At the funeral of the Waynes, Alfred stood vigil beside Bruce. Bruce, who was wearing an expensive monkey suit, one that he had worn the last time the Waynes had to make a public appearance, one that his mother had smoothed out with a proud smile, saying how grown up he already was, how much growing he had yet to do.

Bruce felt like he grew up overnight.

“My condolences to you, young sir,” the voice was poised and crisp, just like Alfred’s. He even had a British accent. “Thank you, Edwin,” Alfred spoke up on his behalf, and Bruce finally looked up to meet Edwin’s eye.

Bruce blinked up at the butler, the man holding a big umbrella, too big for just himself, he thought. His gaze drifted down to a boy his age, staring at him with his nose upturned and his arms folded stiffly. 

“It is a shame that Mister Stark was unable to make it,” Alfred observed, keeping the conversation going, keeping it away from the newly toiled earth in front of them, away from the rain dripping down new headstones. 

In the haze of grief, Bruce dimly recognised that name. Stark. Howard Stark - someone that his parents would always talk- had always talked about, speaking in hushed whispers about the man when they had thought Bruce was already asleep. 

His gaze drifted back to the boy, who glared back at him. This was Anthony Stark. Howard’s son. He recalled vaguely that they were supposed to meet that weekend. That must be why they were able to make it, why they were here, because they had never met before, not truly.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself, Master Anthony?” Alfred asked politely. At that, Anthony’s glare was redirected upwards, towards Alfred himself.

“Tony,” he stated tersely, “Call me Tony. Without the master. I hate it.”

Edwin rested a hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “He has fought tooth and nail for me to call him sir, instead of master anything,” Edwin’s voice was fond, “Come, then, young sir, we must take our leave. Our flight is soon.”

Anthony’s shoulders stiffened. “Will da- Howard be there, Jarvis?” he asked softly. Edwin - Jarvis? - shook his head, “No. Both your parents will not be returning for another week.”

Anthony sagged. It ached to see, like it ached to know that he would never be able to see his own parents again. Why? Why were his parents leaving him alone on purpose? Bruce did not understand.

That was until he trained his piercing eyes on him, and he saw the gaze of someone too young being too old, worn and weathered by something like loneliness. There was instant connection there. Two young boys with their family’s butlers, because their parents either could not or did not make it.

“I was looking forward to meeting them,” Tony held himself stiffly, forcing the words out as he glared at the ground, then glared at the gravestones, “They gave me a lollipop at a gala, once. Said a lot of nice things.” 

Tony shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry they’re gone,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He straightened up. “Let’s go, Jarvis,” he ordered, and turned and marched away, Edwin matching his pace with ease, umbrella still over his head.

Two broken boys under an unforgiving night sky, both too young and too old from different traumas. 

~

“You’re going to get that everywhere,” Bruce declares, as Tony pulls out his hidden stash, “You literally just got this apartment!”

“Exactly! I literally just got this apartment!” Tony waved his hand flippantly around the newly furnished apartment. His apartment. Away from his parents, away from that lonely, _lonely_ house, away from it all. Best of all, a few steps away from MIT. All of a sudden, it felt like he could do anything.

“Stark, you idiot!” Bruce was shaking his head as he snatched the Coca Cola bottle from his hands, “Okay, look, if you’re going to pop it like champagne, you have to shake it better than that-”

They were fourteen, now. Young, still so young, but one of them was about to enter University, so were they really still young? The bottle popped loudly, foam spewing onto carefully placed newspaper, Bruce pouring generously into two big mugs on the table.

“These are coffee mugs,” Bruce observed, proceeding to squint at his friend in suspicion, “You drink coffee?”

“What else would I do, Wayne? Make cakes?” Tony laughed loudly, and he was rewarded with the smallest of smirks from Bruce.

Tony had already started to hide behind snark and jokes, amping up his rudeness and his annoyingly-loud opinions to distance himself from others. Bruce was an emotionless brick that was unfazed by his taunts, and he had long given up on trying to shove him away.

“Coffee will ruin you,” Bruce deadpans, “It’ll stunt your growth, give you higher risks of-”

“-I live with risks,” Tony waved his hand dismissively, “I live with disaster at my doorstep! Literally. I’m definitely going to be blowing up this place sooner or later, is what I’m saying,” his grin was answered by a long-suffering sigh. Bruce wondered idly why Alfred had kept in touch with Jarvis, and why he had kept in touch with Tony.

“Thanks, though.” Bruce looked up as his friend’s gaze softened, “Thanks for being here, I mean. Ever since Jarvis died, it’s been… hard.”

Bruce blinked, and allowed a real smile to play across his lips. “No, thank you,” Bruce responded, clinking their mugs lightly, the fizzy drink sloshing about as he took a sip.

Tony was the only friend who seemed to get Bruce. The only friend who did not discount his grief, did not tell him to move on, just accepted his all-encompassing dreariness for what it was. 

Then the teen let out an almighty belch, and Bruce was back to wrinkling his nose. 

~

“Between the two of us,” Tony commented drily, “I didn’t expect it to be you to pour the first glass.”

“This conversation will need it,” Bruce shrugs, “Or, at least, I’ll need it.”

“And Alfred?”

“Will just have to deal with our hangovers,” Bruce pursed his lips, “He probably knows, already.”

They were in his father’s old study. Thomas’ study. Their portrait still hung on the wall, his books still lined the shelves, and here, back against the expensive couch that he always refused to actually sit on, Bruce could pretend that his parents were still here, still watching over him as the liquid stung his throat.

It was, unsurprisingly, Tony who started speaking first. 

“I’m going to be better than Howard,” he laughed hoarsely, “I’m going to show him that I’m more than what he thinks! That I’m better than this Captain America I keep hearing about, that my tech will beat a supersoldier any day! I’ll show him!”

The almost manic laughter died down. Then, quietly, “I’m leaving Gotham.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Tony retorted, “S’why you invited me.”

“I’m leaving Gotham,” Bruce continued, “And when I come back, I’m going to change this city. Watch me, Stark. No more muggings leading to orphaned kids. No more crimes that the police just don’t bother about. No more people getting lost in a corrupted system.”

If Tony could describe Bruce’s voice, it would be a growl. A low growl that reeked of unresolved pain, the growl of a young man driven by one thing, one thing alone. 

“I made a promise to them,” he gestured lamely to the portrait, “I promised them. I’m keeping that promise, no matter what.”

Silence. 

“You tell ‘em, Wayne,” Tony grinned sharply, “I’ll be waiting for your return, then. The knight in shining armor to get rid of Gotham’s filth. And while you go soul-searching, I’ll be making sure Alfred doesn’t lose his mind worrying. I’ll keep him occupied for you, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure you will,” Bruce drawled, and poured another glass.

~

A car crash, a phone call, and a shift in ownership. At 21 years old, Tony Stark became the owner of Stark Industries.

Alfred watched from Wayne Manor, as the boy he had come to know like his own threw caution to the wind, and became a shell of himself.

~

They did not meet again until much later. 

“Is he gonna be here?” Dick Grayson whispered quietly, bouncing on his feet like the man-child that he was. Bruce wondered not for the first time why he had been blessed with being able to raise him, the first Robin of Batman, light to the dark knight.

“I invited him,” Bruce deflected easily. Tim Drake peered up at him questioningly, wide eyes intelligent and perceptive. 

“Who-”

“Wayne!”

Bruce smiled minutely, a real smile, as he turned to face Tony Stark. At his side was Pepper Potts, regarding him with a confused but resigned expression. 

“Stark! It’s been a long time,” Bruce exclaimed, letting his playboy persona take over as he sloppily pulled the man into a brief hug. 

“Wow, that hug’s real,” Dick whispered to Tim, “I’ve always heard about this guy, but they’ve never met up, not once.”

“Billionaire, genius, playboy. Yeah, I wonder why,” Tim whispered back, and Dick grinned and clasped his shoulder. 

“Pepper, this is Bruce Wayne and his kids,” Tony was grinning a smile worthy of the cameras, “Wayne, meet Pepper. Half the time, I don’t know how she puts up with me.”

Pepper, on her part, rolled her eyes, then stepped forward to shake Bruce’s hand formally. “Nice to meet you, and nice to see you sober,” Pepper commented. The Wayne children snickered quietly, and were silenced by a swift glance towards them from Bruce.

“Hey, Dick - I can call you that, right? - why don’t you introduce Pepper to Alfred with your little brother? I already said hi, of course,” Tony waved them away quickly, then turned back to Bruce, his socialite smile falling into something more genuine.

“So. White knight of Gotham?” Tony grinned. “What was that, Iron Man?” Bruce retorted, and Tony laughed heartily.

“Ah, that’s the Bruce I remember,” Tony clasped the man’s shoulder, then lowered his voice, “I have a proposition for you.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. Tony took that as a sign to continue. “You must have heard of the Avengers by now,” he explained, “We’re a team of misunderstood, overlooked, and ignored people with so much potential. I see that in you, Bruce, and I’d like you to join us.”

Bruce huffed a laugh, “No thanks,” he stated drily, “I’m hardly qualified to be a superhero.”

“That’s the thing,” Tony protested, “You don’t need to be qualified. Look at me! I’ve got bruises all over from self-defence classes, but that’s the thing, you can learn! You just need that drive for change,” Tony nudged his shoulder, “Remember that conversation we had, all those years ago? With the Avengers, you can do more than just be a man sitting on a lot of money. You can be more.”

“I don’t know who you’re trying to fool,” Tony added, “But I know you, Bruce. I know you don’t actually get drunk enough to stumble over your own feet. That laugh that you keep doing at these galas is nothing like your real amusement. I did it first, Wayne, and I of all people should be able to tell when a person is hiding behind a guise to keep people away.”

Pepper was returning, now, with the Wayne boys in tow. “The offer is open and out there,” Tony finished, “Just give it some thought. For me.”

“Tony, Thor short-circuited the building, again,” Pepper announced. Tony heaved a sigh, “Tell Natasha to fix it. I showed her how the last time it happened.” Pepper nodded and typed quickly, and then, “They also broke a hole in the wall. Again.”

“It sounds worse than Kon,” Tim whispered to his brother. “Of course it’s worse,” Dick whispered back, “We actually reinforce the walls for them.” Tim giggled into his hand.

“Nice talking to you, Wayne,” Tony waved a goodbye, “We should stay in touch, like we used to do. See you around?”

“See you around,” Bruce repeated, and the duo dissolved into the crowd. 

“So, B, penny for your thoughts?” Dick piped up, then mumbled, “Man! I need to use that on Alfred!”

“I think,” Bruce ignored his son’s rambling, “That my old friend has found himself a team.”

“Do you think he’ll find out?” Tim asked, “Everyone knows about Batman.”

“Batman is a myth outside of Gotham,” Bruce states, “We’ll keep it that way, for as long as we can.”

Bruce squinted. “Jason snuck in, didn’t he?” he saw the white lock of hair disappear behind a pillar. Dick snorted, “Tim, you owe me 10 bucks.” Tim grumbled and handed over the money.

~

A fight, a stinging betrayal, and a young boy who needs guidance.

~

Tony was drinking milk. Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, even as he accepted his own cup of it.

“It’s expiring soon,” was all he said, shrugging, plopping down onto the table and taking a long sip, eyeing him like he was daring him to challenge the reasoning. Bruce shrugged back.

Tony was… healing. That was all that could be said. He was healing, and he was moving on, creating the Avengers compound and managing his company and, apparently, getting engaged to his girlfriend. Which was why Bruce Wayne was even in New York, in the first place. A congratulatory meeting. A private celebration between two old friends.

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, he was interrupted by his phone. His phone, which blared with the starting of a Rick Astley song he had unfortunately heard one too many times. He had to ban it from casework - and had begrudgingly allowed it for civilian things, like links in family group chats. 

“Barbara,” he mumbled, annoyed, because he thought he had changed the ringtone the last time Tim did it, and made sure it would not happen again. Oracle was the only one better than both of the bats. Tony was very obviously trying not to laugh.

Bruce stilled when he saw the caller ID. Then, cautiously, he answered the call. “Hello?” he spoke in a cross between Batman and Bruce Wayne. 

“B,” Jason’s voice greeted him, cheery and casual in a way that meant he was trying to hide his awkwardness, “So I’m kind of bored and in the Manor right now, and apparently Alfie’s out grocery shopping, and I can’t find the First Edition books? Or at least, the ones that I really like. Do you happen to know where they are?”

Bruce’s lips twitched with a smile. “Ah, of course. I think Alfred moved them into the tallest cabinet in the kitchen. Apparently, Damian had wanted to read them, and Alfred refused.”

Jason snorted on the other end. “Gee, what did the brat do to piss the man off?”

“He insulted one of his meals,” Bruce replied, and Jason choked on a laugh, “Of course he apologised later and now we know he’s vegetarian, but still. Alfred can be petty, sometimes.”

“Ooooh, don’t let him hear you say that,” Jason commented cheekily, and Bruce chuckled back. “Will I see you when I return?” Bruce blurted before he could stop himself.

A pause. “Yeah,” Jason’s reply was soft, and Bruce did smile this time, “I’m not going anywhere, old man. You’re stuck with me. See ya!”

The line went dead, and Bruce lowered his phone with a lingering smile. 

“Who’s that? One of your kids?” Tony leaned forward, “Or do you have a secret girlfriend nobody knows about?”

“One of my kids,” Bruce confirmed, “And you know that I don’t date.”

“I know better than anyone,” Tony nodded sagely, then paused, “Except for maybe Alfred. Alfred knows all.” Bruce quirked his lips in agreement.

Tony tipped the last of his milk into his mouth, then cleared his throat. “Look, Wayne, adopting kids is your thing and all, and I don’t mean to steal your thunder,” Tony started it as a joke, but all Bruce needed to do was raise an eyebrow for him to get to the point. Tony’s shoulders sagged.

“His name is Peter Parker, and he’s an amazing kid,” Tony started, and then continued for the rest of the night, talking about the kid’s academics, about the fake-then-real internship, about his involvement in the recent plane crash along the beach, of his superhero identity of Spider-Man. 

Tony and Bruce were very much alike. 

“He’s just a kid,” Tony sighed, “And I can’t stop him, so I’m doing everything I can to help him. Heck, remember me complaining about self-defence classes at that Gala? Yeah, now I’m the one giving him self-defence classes. I… Bruce,” he sounded desperate, even to his own ears, “What do I do? Is this really the right thing to do? The best option?”

Bruce let himself have a moment, before responding. “You’re doing your best,” he assured, “You’re doing everything that you can for the boy, and so much more. You’ve given him something to look forward to, an internship, and a mentorship. You’ve given him a chance to prove himself, and you’re making sure that he’ll never have to fight alone. That’s better than most people would do. You didn’t need to do all this, but you did, and that says enough.”

“I’m the one who dragged him into this mess,” Tony demurred, “I’m the one who gave him a suit, made him complacent - and then when I take the suit away, he still goes and does something stupid!” 

It sounded so much like the little boy at his doorstep, with a camera and developed film and bright blue eyes that refused to break away from Batman’s glare. 

“You’ve helped him,” Bruce insisted, “And you’re still helping him. He would have found a way to get tangled up in this mess by himself, sooner or later.”

Tony stayed silent for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah,” he met his eye, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Wayne. Thanks,” he smirked and chuckled, “Would you like more milk?”

~

A snap, that resounded throughout the world.

Five years, and then, a breakthrough. Tony Stark did not die - no, because accompanying the Avengers in the final fight was an array of otherwise undiscovered, otherwise unknown heroes. They called themselves the Justice League.

~

“SHIELD has remained willfully ignorant of us,” Diana - Wonder Woman - spoke with clarity and strength. It had been a week since the final showdown. Enough time for everyone to at least rest and ensure that their loved ones were alright. To tend to the important things before facing the important matters.

“The cities that we operate in have specifically opted out of the Accords. At this point, it seems like it is well on its way to being dissolved, anyway,” Superman tacked on. 

Bucky stood by Tony’s side. It felt weird, but right, somehow. Captain America - Steve - had lived his own life, and now he was just an old crone. Bucky was left behind, and Tony had shoved the past into the dumpster and offered him a place to stay in Avengers compound. 

Bucky now folded his arms, his new arm - courtesy of Shuri and Peter, who knew how they had managed it in less than a week - allowing the movement easily. “I didn’t know of any of you,” he stated, and looked to Clint, who shook his head. There was a redhead that was missing between them, and her absence seemed to unite them more than anything.

“We ensured that none of you… new heroes… would think of us as anything more than a tourist stunt or glorified myths,” said the glorified myth, Batman himself. 

Batman. The Dark Knight of Gotham. Who spoke with a growl and wore an emotionless frown. Who had the same physique as the playboy billionaire which directly contrasted this man, who had even publicly announced his funding of Batman Inc., which had been dismissed by the majority of the world as a publicity stunt. 

Tony’s old friend could not have been more obvious.

He allowed the meeting to play out, the pleasantries to be made, the agreements to be set in place. Then, just as they were leaving, he yells, “Hey, Bats!” and the man turns to him with what was undoubtedly an unimpressed stare, “Tell Wayne he should come over, some time! I need to introduce him to Morgan!”

The jet engine roared too loudly for anyone to hear Diane’s small giggle, but Tony caught the twitch of the man’s lips - and then the black cape sweeped behind him as he turned and headed into the jet, and the Justice League’s representatives were off.

“What was that about?” Pepper stood by his side with a confused frown. Tony kissed her cheek and chuckled, “Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to send a message.”

~

_Bring your mini-CEO with you, too. I’m sure Peter would love an accomplice._

~

“What’s going on, Mr Stark?” Peter had Morgan on his shoulders, holding her carefully but also with too much ease for someone with his physique. Sometimes he wondered how the boy kept his secret identity. Then again, his close friends knew, didn’t they?

“Have you ever heard of Bruce Wayne?” Tony started, watching on in amusement as Peter’s face practically brightened. “You know Bruce Wayne?” he jumped excitedly, Morgan shrieking happily, “That guy’s, like, you, but for Gotham! He’s done so much and I heard he funds Batman and- do you think he invents Bat-weapons for him?”

Tony laughed heartily. Oh, the irony. “Well, you can ask that when he gets here. He and I go way back,” Tony paused, then, backtracking to the start of the conversation, “And how many times do I have to tell you, call me Tony!”

“Ah, sorry,” Peter shrugged sheepishly, “Force of habit.”

FRIDAY soon informed them that Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne were making their way to the common room of the Avengers compound. 

“-this place is neat,” Tim’s voice trailed into range, “Do you think the walls are reinforced? I wouldn’t want it all coming down from a single Hulk smashing.”

“Don’t worry, they’re reinforced for more than just Hulk,” Tony assured, glancing pointedly at Peter, who grimaced. He also took the cue to set Morgan down, and she bounded happily towards her father. 

“Wayne,” he smiled brightly, lifting up his pride and joy, “This is Morgan. This is Peter,” he gestured to his other pride and joy, and he wished he had the nerve to adopt the boy. 

“Hello, Morgan. Hello, Peter,” Bruce greeted calmly, smiling something softer than his socialite smile. He had a hand on his own child’s shoulder. “This is Tim. You said Peter wouldn’t mind the company?”

“Wouldn’t mind?” Peter squeaked, then clamped a hand over his mouth, then added, “I mean, of course I wouldn’t mind! You’re Tim Drake-Wayne! You’re a CEO! You outclass me on so many levels!”

Tim blinked, then smiled happily. “Well, nice to meet you too,” he greeted, looking around a second time, “What’s a kid like you doing in a place like this?”

“Oh! I’m, uh,” Peter looked to Tony, who nodded encouragingly, “I’m actually Spider-Man. So I’m an Avenger, too,” Peter shrugged dismissively. Tim’s face lit up at the confirmation.

“Do you mind answering questions about your abilities?” Tim asked, and then the two started to talk science as they headed towards what Tony suspected was either the labs or the training rooms, perhaps even both.

Tony turned back to Bruce. “FRIDAY, stop listening,” Tony stated, and the cameras and mics turned off in the room.

“Wouldn’t it be better to loop things?” Bruce suggested, and Tony shrugged, “It won’t matter. The only one who might check the footage is Vision, and even then, Vision doesn’t hang around here very often. He stays with Wanda.”

Bruce nodded at that, taking another glance around the room. Tony went for the kill. “So, you really did become the knight in shining armor?” Tony quipped, “The Dark Knight, at that. What an aesthetic.”

Bruce shrugged, “It fit,” he stated simply, and that was the invitation for more questions.

“Tim? Is he part of that?” Tony asked. “Most of my family is,” Bruce admitted, “Most, if not all, actually. Even Alfred runs the comms for us.”

“My goodness, Wayne,” Tony shook his head with a smile, “We really turned out quite similar, didn’t we?”

“Quite,” Bruce agreed. 

Tony laughed. Then, “FRIDAY, listen. So, Wayne, what else have you been up to?”

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was born from boredom and the realisation that I haven’t found a fic like this yet, at least in my own hours of reading. Could you imagine??? These two are so similar yet so different - Tony Stark is actually the way that he acts all the time, but that in itself is a mask for the paparazzi and shield for anyone trying to get close to him, while there’s Bruce Wayne whose real self is only behind a physical mask...


End file.
